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<title>It Was Strawberry by LokisGirl</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29006355">It Was Strawberry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokisGirl/pseuds/LokisGirl'>LokisGirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lamb of God (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, bandfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:00:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29006355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokisGirl/pseuds/LokisGirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The LoG boys are hanging out after the show when Mark shows up. His wine snobbery gets him in trouble.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It Was Strawberry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Willie, Chris, and John were hanging out on the bus, having a drink and playing three man when Randy burst in with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. He blew past in a drunken stupor.</p>
<p>“Hey man, what got into you? Or maybe who did you get into?” John called. The other guys laughed. It was a well-known fact that Randy was still a virgin- he complained about it daily, and the boys made fun of him for it at every opportunity. </p>
<p>“Jealous it wasn’t you, John-boy?” Randy retorted from the bunks at the back of the bus.</p>
<p>Chris and Willie howled. John flipped the bird in Randy’s direction. </p>
<p>“He couldn’t have,” Willie commented.</p>
<p>Chris nodded his agreement. “Out here on the road? No way. He’s too scared of getting a disease.”</p>
<p>“Who’s too scared of getting a disease?” Mark asked as he joined them. Bottle of wine in hand, he swigged from it as he flopped onto the bench seat beside John. </p>
<p>“Randy just rolled through here looking like he met all the girls from the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition. We’re surmising that he finally got laid. Trouble is, he’s so paranoid about catchin’ something it don’t seem possible,” John drawled. </p>
<p>“I think a better question might be where it could have happened,” Mark raised a good point. “You guys have been in here the whole time, and the venue is still full of people backstage. There’s not very many places to hide out in there.”</p>
<p>“True,” Willie approached the whole thing like a puzzle. There had to be an angle they hadn’t thought of. “Unless he’s had enough to drink that he didn’t care ’bout gettin’ caught. There’s a lot of dark corners in the parking lot.”</p>
<p>“Our boy is pretty impulsive,” John noted. “It is in the realm of possibility that he may have bent someone over behind the bus.”</p>
<p>Mark giggled. He took a healthy swallow from the bottle to stifle it. Chris leaned a little closer to him.</p>
<p>“What kind of wine is that, Mark?”</p>
<p>“Chateau Giraud,” Mark answered, proferring the bottle.</p>
<p>Chris smelled the wine. “Chardonnay. Your usual. I was wondering.”</p>
<p>“Why would you be wondering about that?” Mark asked innocently, smoothing his hair behind his ear.</p>
<p>Stroking his beard, Chris breathed deeply. “It’s not like you to buy cheap novelty wine.” </p>
<p>Mark’s inner wine snob took over. “I hate that shit.”</p>
<p>“So why do you smell like fake strawberries?” Chris pressed.</p>
<p>If this was a cartoon, a lightbulb would flash on over Willie’s head. “The lube that John bought at that sex shop in Amsterdam where we got all those gross hardcore magazines to freak Randy out: It was strawberry!”</p>
<p>John looked at Mark sideways. “Why, you sly dog, you!”</p>
<p>“Me? I didn’t do anything,” Mark tried to deny it. </p>
<p>Lighting a smoke with John’s engraved lighter, Chris took a drag. Exhaling in Mark’s direction, he shook his head. “Don’t even try, man. We’ve been in this band too long for you to bullshit any of us. You’re covering up what you did. Why?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think Randy would want me discussing it. He mostly did it so you would stop making fun of him.”</p>
<p>“We are assholes to him about it, for sure,” John acquiesced.  He sipped scotch from a glass that was mostly ice by this point. “My question is this: are you being an asshole about it now?” </p>
<p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mark’s eyebrows knit defensively.</p>
<p>“It means that you better not have just fucked up our band so you could get laid,” Willie chimed in. </p>
<p>All three of them looked at Mark as though he just kicked a cat. They were understandably distrustful of his motivations. Mark didn’t exactly have a great track record with past partners. He always managed to end up just friends with all of them, and no one was sure how.</p>
<p>“He wanted someone who wouldn’t make a big deal out of it,” Mark shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, so I went along.”</p>
<p>“Not a big deal?” repeated Chris, somewhat incredulous. “Are you nuts? He’s twenty-five! It is a big deal at his age!”</p>
<p>“And now it’s over, and it’s not a big thing any more. He’s free to do whatever he wants without virginity hanging over his head.” </p>
<p>“I guess. You better hope he doesn’t fall for you,” John cautioned.</p>
<p>“Oh no,” Mark assured him with a grin. “I know that’s not going to happen.”</p>
<p>“How do you know that?” Willie prompted him to fill in the blanks.</p>
<p>Mark thought about it for a second before answering. “Well, I think the fact that he called me Chris when he came was a clue.”</p>
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